O Little Town of Bethlehem
by EHfan
Summary: An outbreak of food poisoning brings Jacob and Rachel to Bethlehem right before Christmas.  They have some trouble at the inn and Felix's temporary replacement discovers their secret.
1. Chapter 1

A/N: Since we haven't had the Eastern Orthodox New Year yet, I figure there's still time to post a Christmas story.

Disclaimer: I don't think of this as copyright infringement. I think of it as fair us.

. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .

Felix Lee was a contented man. He had a challenging job, colleagues he considered close friends, and the prospect of a very happy holiday in front of him. Since Rachel had taken time off the previous Christmas, he had jumped at the opportunity to spend time with his family this year. As he pointed out slyly, it was only fair. After all, _they_ were going to be spending time with their loved ones, why shouldn't he?

In truth, neither Jacob nor Rachel begrudged the big man his time off. They were looking forward to spending their first Christmas as a couple. The reality was that the type of crimes and abuses they investigated, like everything else, slowed down around the holidays. In all of the years that Jacob had been with the Bureau, his expertise had been called upon over the Christmas holidays only once. Rachel had been assigned to his detail only a few months previously and neither of them had minded. Jacob had still been grieving for his wife, Maggie; Rachel had been thankful for a reason not to spend the holidays with her father.

The trio had assumed that this year would be the same. A chance to catch up on paperwork while fighting off the boredom of being stuck in the Hoover Building. The down time was especially hard on Jacob. None of the mounds of paperwork generated by their work was his responsibility. Occasionally he would have to verify a conclusion, elaborate on the methodology used to solve a problem, or produce a receipt, but that was all.

Without a case to occupy him, Jacob was reduced to consulting for other divisions within the FBI or other government agencies. Sometimes, to his horror, he was required by Frank Fuller to attend one of the interminable cocktail parties held by various politicians, in order to lobby for the FBI. Frank firmly believed in getting the most use possible out of his Special Science Advisor.

This year, however, had produced more down time than usual. They had finished up their last case in early December and had been at loose ends since. Rachel had been pleased with the long break. She was exhilarated to think that she would be starting off the year with her paperwork completely caught up; for the first time ever. Felix was her unwilling acolyte in this endeavor while Jacob frantically tried to find ways to keep off of Frank's radar. In the end, he decided that the illusion of work would be his best bet to stave off Frank's demands that he accompany him to various political events. And the best way to create that illusion was to set up some sort of faux experiment in his small lab. He was undecided as to what form this experiment would take when Felix unwittingly provided the inspiration.

While checking on some old paperwork, Felix had run across the file on a case they had taken them to Illinois the previous December. A case in which some office workers had suffered from lead poisoning after drinking alcohol made with a faulty still. To Rachel's consternation and Felix's glee, Jacob decided to teach Felix the right way to set up a still. Rachel had been astonished at how quickly Jacob had converted Bunsen burners, beakers, and glass tubing into a small still.

"I take it you've done this before?" she inquired. Jacob had only smiled and continued his tutelage of Felix. For the next two weeks, the sounds and smells of fermenting alcohol filled the lab. Rachel sat in a corner doing paper work, pointedly ignoring their activities.

It was the day of Felix's scheduled departure. Jacob and Felix had finished their experiment and had decided to celebrate by having a party. They strung some lights on the still and piled presents on Rachel's desk. Felix had brought in speakers for his iPod and Christmas music was softly playing. Jacob filled some beakers with a bright red liquid and offered one to Rachel.

"You do realize," Rachel said caustically, "that it's illegal to make moonshine? And why is it that disgusting color?"

"It's not moonshine, Rachel," Jacob informed her. "It's vodka." His lips twitched. "Cherry vodka. I thought the color was more festive, more in keeping with the season."

Rachel scrunched up her nose in distaste, but before she could speak the door to the lab opened. A young man entered, looked around uncertainly, and approached Jacob. With the ease of long practice, Rachel stepped between the two men.

"Can I help you?"

"Umm, Dr. Hood?" The young man looked over Rachel's shoulder. "I'm Special Agent Terrance Mason. I was told to report to you. I've been assigned to take Agent Lee's place while he's on vacation leave."

"What do you mean you're replacing Felix? Why haven't I heard anything about this?" Rachel asked sharply.

Mason stiffened; he hadn't expected opposition to his presence from Dr. Hood's handler. Dr. Hood had caused quite a stir when he appeared as a guest lecturer at the Academy. The cases he had described sounded like something out of a book or a movie. He had been excited to hear that he was being posted, even temporarily, to the Special Science Advisor's team. He decided that his best chance of being allowed to stay was to appeal directly to Dr. Hood.

"The Director said that he'd meet me here to explain the situation. I'm sure he'll be here shortly." Mason responded, his gaze on Jacob, as if he, not Rachel had spoken. He stepped around Rachel and stretched out a hand. "I'd like to say that I'm looking forward to working with you Dr. Hood."

Jacob reached out and realized he was still holding the beaker in his right hand. He shifted it to his left and shook Mason's hand. "Um, I see." He considered the young man before him. While he seemed pleasant, Jacob did not like the way he had not acknowledged Rachel. His lips slowly curved into a smile. "Well, Terrance, welcome to the team." He held out the beaker. "We're having a small Christmas party. Drink?"

Mason returned his smile. "Thank you sir." He took the beaker Jacob offered and downed the contents in one gulp. His face took on an alarming hue and he started coughing and sputtering.

Rachel began pounding him on the back. "Jeez, Hood, what are you trying to do? Kill the kid?"

Mason tried to shoot her a dirty look for the _kid_ remark, but it was difficult as his eyes were still streaming. At that moment Frank Fuller entered the lab. He took one look at Mason's condition, the still that Jacob has constructed, and burst out laughing.

"So _that's_ what kept you too busy to help me with lobbying Congress this year." He shook his head. "_And_ you've taken to running experiments on my agents."

Jacob returned his old friend's smile. "It's not that bad Frank." He turned and picked up two more beakers and handed one to Frank. "Actually it's one of my better batches."

"Cheers." The two men clicked beakers.

The three agents watched in horror as the Director took a healthy sip of the contents of the beaker. He coughed a few times and said in a strangled voice, "To much cherry flavoring. Again."

Rachel and Felix exchanged amused looks. _Better batches? Again_? They knew that the Director and Hood had been friends since their college days. This exchange held the promise of a good story; _if_ they could convince him to tell it. While the man loved to talk, he could be surprisingly reticent on some subjects.

"Speaking of your agents." Jacob gestured toward Mason. "This one seems to think he's been assigned to me."

"Mmm," Frank said, taking another sip. "Standard procedure. He'll fill in for Lee while he's on vacation."

"Sir, with all due respect," Rachel objected, "I hardly think that's necessary. We haven't had a case in weeks. And if we are called out, I'm…"

"I know," Frank interrupted. "But protocol dictates that Lee be replaced while he's out on leave. Besides," he shrugged. "Mason just finished his training at Quantico. I needed to find something for him to do; his regular slot won't open up until after the new year. This will be a good experience for him."

Draining his beaker he turned to leave with a pointed look at Rachel. "I'm counting on you to make sure of that Young."

"Of course sir," she replied stiffly.

With the Director's departure, the threesome stared at Mason for a few moments. Felix finally broke the silence.

"So, you just finished up at the Academy?"

"Yeah, I was assigned to White Collar Crimes, but they weren't ready for me yet. The Director decided to place me here. I guess…"

"Whatever," Rachel cut in. "So, what have you been told about this detail? About your duties?"

Mason shifted his gaze to her and swallowed almost audibly. Dr. Hood wasn't the only one to create a stir at the Academy. Some of his classmates had taken one look at Agent Young's long blonde hair, slender figure and delicate features and began making lewd remarks. These were cut short when, in the course of her introduction, the supervisory agent informed them that Agent Young had not only been awarded the FBI Star, but was also a recipient of the Medals of Valor and Meritorious Achievement.

"Not much," he stammered. "Ma'am," he added hastily at Rachel's cocked eyebrow. "That I was in charge of advance support and recon if you, uh, we, get called out on a case. Otherwise, I was to consider myself at Dr. Hood's disposal."

Rachel frowned in irritation. Just what she so did not need; a stranger on the team. A stranger who might reignite the old gossip. She knew that she and Jacob were careful when on the job to treat each other in as professional a manner as possible. But damn, they had been working together for years. Even before they had developed an intimate relationship, they had grown comfortable in each other's presence. Had developed routines, in-jokes, habits that this kid might misinterpret.

"I guess we're stuck with you." Rachel said ungraciously. "I'm not sure what we're going to do with you, but…" She shrugged her shoulders.

Jacob contemplated the young man thoughtfully. While he could understand Rachel's irritation, he thought it was unwise of her to show it. A token protest to Frank, to say that this Mason was not needed was one thing. But to continue to show her dislike of the situation would only raise questions in Mason's mind and, if he got to hear about it, in Frank's as well.

"One thing Terrance can do, is help me dismantle the still." Jacob looked at it regretfully. "It's a shame, but I don't think Frank…"

Felix snickered. "Nope, I don't think the Director would appreciate the ATF raiding the Hoover Building. I'm surprised we got away with it for as long as we did."

Rachel shook her head and checked her watch. "As much I can't believe I'm the one saying it, the still will have to stay where it is." She smiled at the look of surprise on Jacob's and Felix's faces. "At least for now," she amended. "If we're taking Felix to the airport we should get going."

"Wait," Felix objected. "We have to open our presents first."

Mason stood by a little awkwardly as the trio exchanged presents. It was obvious to him from the comments and laughter that accompanied them that this team shared some history. After all, the noise cancelling headphones and leather gloves Agent Lee received weren't what you'd consider funny presents.

He perked up when Lee handed Dr. Hood his present. He wondered what you gave a genius for Christmas. He couldn't believe it when it turned out to be a Three Stooges DVD. Dr. Hood pretended to be offended, but from his smile Mason could see that he appreciated it. Agent Young had liked her iTunes gift certificate also.

"Will you be coming back?" Mason asked as the others were putting on their coats and collecting their belongings.

Rachel shook her head. "No, it's mid-afternoon and what with the traffic getting to Dulles and back, it wouldn't be worth our while." She rolled her eyes at the crest-fallen look on Mason's face. "Look, why don't you take the rest of the day off? We'll see you back here first thing tomorrow morning."

Mason sighed in disappointment as the door to the lab swung closed. It looked like his temporary assignment wasn't going to live up to his dreams. He jumped when the door to the lab re-opened suddenly.

"Umm, Terrance? I brought in a couple of mason jars," Dr. Hood stuck his head around the door frame. "Why don't you fill them up with the vodka? Take one up to Frank's office and keep one for yourself."

Mason stood gaping, but before he could react, Dr. Hood was replaced in the doorway by Agent Young. "Don't you dare drink any that stuff." She smiled at him for the first time. "At least not until you're safely at home." Mason's breath stopped at the sight of her smile. _'Man, maybe this posting won't be so bad after all.'_

. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .

The next two days passed slowly. Despite his best efforts, it was obvious to Mason that he wasn't making much of an impression. Dr. Hood kept looking at him quizzically, as if he was trying to remember who he was and why he was there. Agent Young kept referring to him as 'the kid.' He was grateful, however, that she seemed reconciled to his presence.

He figured this was due to his willingness to assist with the paperwork. Unlike Agent Young, who found the paperwork a burden, he found it fascinating. It allowed him to catch a glimpse into the kind of things Dr. Hood investigated. Mason fervently wished that a case would come up before Agent Lee returned.

While they were both friendly enough, answering his questions, it was clear that they considered him an outsider. When Dr. Hood suggested to Agent Young that a coffee break might be a good idea, she had agreed readily. He had lifted his head from his files eagerly, only to be disappointed when she had told him to keep an ear out for the phone while they were gone. His shoulders slumped as they left him alone in the lab. Moments later, however, the phone rang, granting him his wish.

Mason burst through the doors of the cafeteria looking around for Dr. Hood and Agent Young. He spied them sitting at a corner table and he hurried over to their table; his face shining with excitement. "Dr. Hood, Agent Young, we've got a case!"

"Great," Rachel groused. "There goes Christmas."

Jacob's lips twitched, it was clear from the look on the younger man's face that he wasn't expecting that reaction. "What's going on Terrance?"

"The Director called. He's had a joint request for your services from the Center for Disease Control and the Philadelphia field office."

Rachel rolled her eyes. "That's interesting, but _what_ exactly is the problem?"

Mason looked a bit flustered. "Uh, the Director said that it was an E coli outbreak. . . ."

"E coli?" Jacob interrupted. "That explains the CDC's involvement. But why would the field office get involved in a case of food poisoning?"

Rachel looked thoughtful. "It must be more than that, I mean, for the FBI field office to get called in? It has to be something bigger than just E coli."

They both looked at Mason expectantly. He flushed in embarrassment. These were good questions and they shouldn't have had to ask them. He had been so excited to think that he was going out on a case with Dr. Hood that he hadn't reported properly. He took a deep breath and began again.

"According to the CDC, the patients are all suffering from exposure to Shiga toxin-producing E coli bacteria. They've asked you to come up for a consult since they can't determine the source of the bacteria." He turned to Rachel. "The local field office got involved because the victims are all members of a local church. They're thinking it might be a hate crime. The Director said that we would get fuller information once we're on the scene."

"Much better." Rachel looked at Mason with some amusement. "But where exactly is the _scene_?"

He smiled at her. "Bethlehem." He was satisfied to see that both Agent Young and Dr. Hood's jaws dropped.

"You mean," Rachel said slowly, "we're going to _Bethlehem_ two days before _Christmas_?"

Mason could only grin and nod. The three of them burst out laughing and he felt, for the first time, a measure of acceptance.

"We better get going," Rachel said, wiping her eyes. "We need to make arrangements…."

"Uh, Agent Young, ma'am?" Mason interrupted. "I've taken the liberty of having the motor pool gas up your SUV and bring it around front. I've got my go-bag in the lab. We can leave for Bethlehem, Pennsylvania as soon as you and Dr. Hood are ready."

"We're driving?" Rachel frowned. "Why?"

"I checked with the airlines before I came down here," Mason explained. "The next flight to Philadelphia doesn't leave for three hours. Bethlehem is only about 150 miles away, we could be there by then, if we leave now."

"Not bad kid." Rachel looked at him approvingly. "Felix couldn't have done better himself."

Mason smiled weakly. While he appreciated the compliment, he could have done without the 'kid." He was soon caught up in the bustle of departure. He felt slightly superior when he discovered that they would have to stop by both Dr. Hood's and Agent Young's apartments; neither had a bag at the lab. He was startled to find that they lived in the same building. His comment on this fact died on his lips at the sight of Agent Young's raised eyebrow.

The drive to Bethlehem passed quickly. Most of the time was taken up with Dr. Hood lecturing them on the various forms that E coli could take and the symptoms they could expect to find. Mason was beginning to feel a little queasy when Dr. Hood broke off his lecture to exclaim "Alex!"

"Beg pardon, sir?" Mason was slightly confused.

"My sister," Jacob explained. "She was expecting us at her house on Christmas Eve, I should call her, let her know we won't be coming."

"No need," Rachel answered. "I called when we stopped to get our bags." She met Mason's eyes in the rear-view mirror. "How about you, kid, anyone expecting you to show up on Christmas Day?"

He shifted uneasily in the back seat. "Uh, no ma'am. My family's all in Indiana. I don't have any time off accrued yet, so…"

Rachel and Jacob exchanged guilty looks. They had been so caught up with the idea of their first Christmas that they hadn't really given a thought to their young companion. Rachel especially felt like kicking herself. She knew what it was like to be fresh from training, with all of your former classmates and new friends scattered to various postings around the country. _'Damn, he probably doesn't know a soul in DC outside of us.'_

"Just as well," she said. "At least you won't be disappointing anyone."

She then proceeded to launch into a detailed description of what the division of labor would be once they arrived in Bethlehem. He would need to rent himself a car as soon as they arrived. As their 'recon' man he would be responsible for scouting out locations and doing preliminary interviews of the church members, while she and Dr. Hood would head to the hospital. His was surprised when he realized that this meant that he would be working independently. It hadn't occurred to him that he would be given that much freedom in his first case.

She also informed him that his 'support' duties including finding them a hotel. His eyebrows rose when Agent Young casually informed him of the requirements for the rooms he was to reserve for them. It seemed that she and Dr. Hood needed not merely adjacent, but connecting rooms. She didn't care where his room was, as long as it was on the same floor. He had a fleeting thought that maybe his classmates at Quantico weren't so far off the mark after all.

The last part of their trip was made mostly in silence. Mason used his phone to Google car rental agencies in Bethlehem and he reserved a car online. He also spent time researching the church that was the focus of the outbreak. All too soon, they were dropping him off.

Rachel checked her watch. "Hood and I are heading for the hospital to meet with the people from the CDC. After you get us rooms somewhere, check out the church. Do you have the contact info for the agent in charge from the Philadelphia office?"

Mason nodded.

"Good, check in with him. Find out what they know about this case and have them turn over their files. Let him know we'll be taking over, if he has problems with that, he can take it up with me." She turned to Hood, "anything you want to add?" When he shook his head, she glanced at Mason. "We'll see you later." With that, she put the SUV into gear and roared off.

Mason stood for a moment looking slightly lost. He then shook himself and hurried to begin his duties.

Jacob watched the young man in the side-view mirror as they pulled away. He felt sorry for the youngster. "Don't you think you were a little hard on him Rachel?"

Rachel threw him a smile. "He's a smart kid Jacob. He'll do fine. He just needs a little seasoning. Dealing with the locals will be good for him."

Jacob shook his head doubtfully. He knew full well that his appearance on the scene of a crime was more often met with hostility than cooperation. The locals didn't like having people from Washington swooping in and taking over. He hated to think that Terrance was taking the brunt of that resentment.

. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .

"What the hell do you mean, _you're_ taking over my case?" snarled Special Agent Will Harness.

Mason shifted uncomfortably. He wondered resentfully if Agent Young had expected him to receive this kind of reception, if that was why she had given him the assignment of contacting the agents from the local office. He wouldn't put it past her.

"It was my understanding that you joined with the CDC in requesting Dr. Hood's presence," Mason replied stiffly.

"Yeah, we agreed on the consult. The CDC can't identify the source of the bacteria and that's holding up the investigation." His eyes narrowed in dislike. "But I never agreed to handing over my case."

"Well you should have familiarized yourself with Dr. Hood's MO before you asked for his help," retorted Mason. "He always works with his own team."

"That's just bullshit, I don't care what you say, I'm not turning over my files to you."

"Fine," Mason smiled grimly, remembering Agent Young's parting words. "You can take it up with Agent Young, she's Dr. Hood's handler." _'Let her deal with this asshole.'_

. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .

What had seemed like a simple E coli outbreak was anything but. The victims were members of the local Episcopal church choir. They had become ill after a potluck Christmas party held at the rectory the previous week. While not all of the choir members had become ill, a substantial number of them had.

The emergency room doctor who treated the first victims assumed that they had eaten contaminated beef. But there were no beef dishes at the potluck. As more victims showed up at the hospital another complication was discovered. There wasn't a common dish that linked all of the victims. The final victim to show up in the emergency room caused the most consternation.

He was a local police officer. He had been at the rectory to discuss with the priest the church's need for someone to direct traffic on Christmas day. While he was at the rectory while the potluck was going on, he hadn't eaten anything.

With no clue as to the cause of the outbreak, the local medical authorities had called in the CDC. The CDC, however, was hampered in their investigation. Since the victims didn't develop symptoms until two days after the party, the food had already been disposed of. They had positively identified E coli O157 as the culprit, but they couldn't figure out how it got into the food. They had examined the kitchens, pantries, and trash of the contributors to the potluck and couldn't find a trace of the E coli bacteria.

The CDC then theorized that the victims must have been deliberately infected with the E coli. It was at this point that the police had been called in. The local chief of police had quickly realized that he was out of his depth and had requested help from the FBI. While the FBI was quick to theorize that the E coli outbreak was a hate crime, without a source for the bacteria, their investigation was stymied. This was the situation when Jacob and Rachel arrived at the hospital.

Jacob frowned over the reports that the CDC had compiled. "I don't understand, why are you so sure that E coli outbreak was deliberate?"

Dr. Peterson, the doctor from the CDC, shrugged. "It's the only thing that makes sense. The kitchens were all clean and the dishes served weren't the usual suspects in an E coli outbreak."

"Usual suspects?" Rachel was puzzled.

"Yeah, E coli infections are usually the result of people eating undercooked beef or vegetables that weren't washed properly," he explained. "But nothing like that was served. Frankly, we don't think these people ingested the E coli."

"What do you mean?" she asked.

"Our final victim." Peterson said. "The local cop. He's definitely suffering from the same bacterial infection, but he didn't eat anything at the potluck."

"You're postulating an airborne infection?" Jacob looked up from the file folder he had been studying.

"Yes. Homeland Security has confirmed that E coli has been found in the atmosphere."

Jacob frowned. "Yes, I'm aware of that study, it was done at Berkeley several years ago. But they didn't find anywhere near the concentration needed to make someone ill."

"This is why we postulated an intentional exposure. In order for the airborne bacteria to have the necessary concentration to cause this outbreak, it had to have been premeditated."

"That's quite a syllogism." Jacob was skeptical. "How can you so confidently rule out food contamination?" He held his hand up to forestall the Peterson's objection. "Yes, I know, the police officer who didn't eat anything. But he might have picked up the infection in a secondary fashion. Have you questioned him thoroughly to rule that out?"

Peterson looked evasive. "Not exactly."

"What do you mean 'not exactly'?" Rachel said sharply. "Either you questioned him or you didn't."

"He's unconscious. He lapsed into a coma shortly after being admitted." Peterson said.

Jacob narrowed his eyes. "He's unconscious? Then how can you confidently say that he didn't eat anything associated with the potluck?"

"We didn't question him," conceded Peterson, "but all of the people at the potluck confirmed that he wasn't present. Besides, none of the kitchens showed any traces of E coli. You can't get away from that."

Jacob grunted an acknowledgement, as he turned back to the files. He flipped through the paperwork. "Where's the list of all of the food served? And who brought what?"

"We don't have that." Peterson looked puzzled. "What good would that do, I told you, all the kitchens were clean."

"You can never have enough data," Jacob replied absently. He turned to Rachel. "Can you get me a whiteboard and somewhere quiet to work? We'll see if we can reconstruct the menu from these reports."

. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .

Jacob and Rachel had been working with the reports, checking to see which victim ate what, when Harness stormed into the room, trailed by Mason.

Harness took one look at Rachel and a sneer came over his face. "You're Young? You think you're gonna take over for me?"

Rachel's mouth tightened briefly, but she made no other sign of her annoyance. She flicked a glance at Mason, who was looking at her deadpan. _'So, the kid wants to see if I've got the balls to put this one in his place.'_

"I'm _Agent_ Young. And I don't _think_ I'm taking over here, I am."

"That's bullshit! This is my case, we received…"

Rachel cut in. "I don't give a damn about what was. What is, is that the CDC has turned the investigation into the E coli outbreak over to Dr. Hood. That means that this investigation will be conducted by the Special Science Advisor and his team."

"Team?" scoffed Harness. "This kid breezes in and demands my notes and you…"

"I sent Agent Mason," Rachel said coldly, "to inform you about our taking over as a courtesy and to find out what ground, if any, you've already covered. What's more, you don't have jurisdiction here, there's no evidence of a federal crime."

"What the hell are you talking about? This is clearly a hate crime," blustered Harness.

"You came to that conclusion based on what?" Rachel challenged him.

"Profile of the victims, they're all member of some controversial church."

Rachel's eyebrows rose. "They're Episcopalian. You consider _that_ a controversial denomination?"

Harness bristled at her tone. "That church, yeah. They're been in the news here, if you'd done your homework…"

"Ah, actually, it's not that controversial." Mason flushed at suddenly being the center of attention. "The church is involved in a zoning fight over their soup kitchen."

"There," Harness was triumphant. "One of the opponents of the soup kitchen spread the E coli."

Rachel looked at Mason expectantly. "That's not likely." The younger man flinched at the angry look he received from Harness. "The zoning complaint was filed by the president of the church's vestry council."

All three of his listeners gaped at this. Encouraged, Mason continued. "It's really an internal fight. The priest at St. Matthias wants to dump the 1928 Book of Common Prayer and the president wants to keep it. So, he filed the zoning complaint to put pressure on the priest."

"Maybe this president decided to escalate things," Harness put in stubbornly. "It's still a religiously based offense; that makes it a hate crime."

"Nah, he's one of the victims." Mason said. "He's still in the hospital here."

"Looks like you're one who should have done his homework," Rachel smirked. "I suggest you head back to Philly."

Rachel turned to Mason with a look of approval as Harness stalked angrily from the room. "Great work, kid. How did you find out so much so fast?"

Mason sighed. He had hoped Agent Young would drop the 'kid' after he had demonstrated his competence. "It wasn't hard, ma'am. I Googled the church on the way up here. Then I stopped by the rectory before I got in touch with Harness. I had a long talk with the priest's wife, getting general background on the situation here."

"Very impressive Terrance. I appreciate your helping Rachel get rid of that idiot. It will make our work much easier." Jacob turned back to his whiteboard. "Now, if you could help us out here, we're trying to reconstruct the menu from these hospital reports."

"Would the sign-up sheet help?" Mason asked.

Jacob and Rachel looked at him blankly. "The what?"

"The sign-up sheet for the potluck. When I asked Mrs. Worrell if she could help me come up with a list of who was there, so I could begin setting up interviews, she pulled out the sign-up sheet. It lists who brought what and then she amended it to show everyone who showed up."

Jacob took the list Mason proffered. "This is fantastic, just what I wanted."

Rachel smiled at the young agent. "Kid, you're a miracle worker."

Mason's breath stopped at Rachel's smile and his mouth went dry. He blushed and mumbled something unintelligible.

With the help of Rachel and Mason, Jacob constructed an elaborate chart listing all of the dishes contributed and what each victim reported eating. Mason wondered why Dr. Hood found it significant that there were a two dishes that none of the victims had touched.

"But why is that important?" Mason questioned. "I mean, it's not like you eat everything at a party like that.

"Statistics." Rachel answered. She smiled at Mason's quizzical look. "In a sample size this large, it's statistically unlikely that there would be two dishes that no one would eat. One, sure." She elaborated. "There's always one person in a closed group like this who brings something that no one likes, that no one eats. But two? Not likely."

"Rachel's right," Jacob agreed. He tilted his head and bit on his bottom lip. "Do you understand the meaning of this?"

Mason thought for a moment and then spoke slowly. "If it's statistically unlikely that none of the victims ate those dishes, then one or more of them most likely _did_ eat them. This means we can't really trust the victim's statements."

Jacob beamed as if Mason were a promising student. "Exactly. What the people from the CDC seemed to forget was that these people didn't begin to feel ill until two days after the potluck. It's not surprising that these people can't remember exactly what they ate."

He looked at Rachel, "we're going to have to re-interview all of the victims. And I want to interview the people who _didn't _get sick. See what they ate. We have to hope that police officer comes out of his coma, his account of his time at the rectory will be important."

"But Dr. Hood," Mason objected. "What good will it do to re-interview the victims? Why should they remember more now than they did when the CDC interviewed them?"

Once again he was taken aback when Agent Young answered. "Because we have something that the CDC didn't." She held up the sign-up sheet.

"What good will that do?" Mason wanted to know.

Rachel looked at him for a few minutes, considering. "What did you have for breakfast a week ago today?"

Mason looked at her blankly, searching his memory. "Ahh, I had…"

"And if I reminded you that you had breakfast at a diner and showed you a menu, would that help jog your memory?" Rachel raised an eyebrow.

Jacob smiled at the look on Mason's face. "With the list you found for us, I think our interviews will be much more productive than the CDC's."

Rachel stood and stretched. "We'll have to start tomorrow. Let's get back to the hotel and get something to eat. We can divide up the list and figure out a game plan. Come up with a list of questions."

The three of them walked out of the small lab, Jacob explaining to Mason that tomorrow would be a busy day. He thought it likely that they would have to start the investigation from the ground up. That he wasn't happy with the work of either the CDC or 'that idiot from Philadelphia.'


	2. Chapter 2

Mason sat at a table in the back of the small hotel bar feeling distinctly uneasy. They had discovered upon checking in that while the bar was still open and serving food, there was no room service. Agent Young hadn't been happy, had wanted to get their food to take up to their rooms. But she had been over-ruled by Dr. Hood. So while they were taking their luggage upstairs, he was detailed to get them a table and place their food order. His unease was due to the fact that Agent Harness was sitting at the bar drinking.

Mason's worst fears were realized as Harness pushed away from the bar and made his way over to the table. "So, kid." Harness' words were slurred. "They make you wait downstairs while that bitch _handles_ the doctor?"

"What's that supposed to mean?" stammered Mason.

Harness leered at him. "Oh come on, you don't think she's screwing him? I called around this afternoon. Seems Hood went through handlers like a knife through butter until she got assigned to him. She's keeping this job the old-fashioned way, by spreading her legs for the boss."

Mason looked at the man, stunned. While he didn't believe what the man was saying, he couldn't help but remember Agent Young's insistence on connecting rooms. Before he could react, he looked beyond Harness and his eyes widened in dismay.

Agent Young and Dr. Hood were standing just beyond Harness. While Agent Young's face was blank, it was obvious from Dr. Hood's expression that they had heard every word Harness had said. Mason was surprised when it was Agent Young who addressed Harness.

"I'm surprised to see you still hanging around. But you'll have to excuse us, _we_ have work to do." With that she and Hood brushed past the man and sat down. Harness starred at them resentfully and returned to the bar.

Rachel began to ask Mason a question, but Jacob interrupted her. "I think I left my phone in my room. I really need it, the hospital promised to call if that police officer regained consciousness."

Rachel looked at him quizzically. "What are you talking about? I…"

Jacob cut in. "I think you should go get my phone. Now." He and Rachel exchanged a level look.

Finally, she sighed. "Fine." She left the table reluctantly.

Jacob waited until she was out of the bar and then turned to Mason. He drew a deep breath at the look on Dr. Hood's face. He could tell that the man was furious.

"I do not expect, Agent Mason," Jacob bit out. "That you defend Agent Young's honor." His eyebrows rose, "she is more than capable of defending that herself." Mason opened his mouth, but Jacob held up a hand to forestall him. "I do, however, expect that you would make it clear that you will not tolerate sexist remarks about her."

"Yes, sir, I'm sorry sir." Mason looked down at the table.

Jacob looked at the boy thoughtfully. While he was still angry with Harness, he acknowledged that it was unfair of him to be taking it out on this kid. Mason really hadn't had time to respond to what that jerk had said about Rachel before they appeared. He relented a bit.

"What you have to understand Terrance is that both Rachel and Felix are occasionally subjected to some…" he searched for an appropriate word "discourtesy in the field. I always make it quite clear that I will not tolerate racist or sexist remarks about my team, and I expect my team to behave likewise."

Mason looked up, relieved that he wasn't going to have to bear the brunt of Dr. Hood's anger. "Yes, sir, I under… Oh crap." Mason broke off to look across the bar with a horrified expression on his face.

Jacob twisted in his chair to see what had grabbed Mason's attention. Harness, from his position at the bar had seen Rachel reenter the room. He staggered to intercept her. "Hey blondie, how 'bout a little kiss under the mistletoe?"

Harness grabbed Rachel around the waist and pulled her into an embrace. Mason half-rose from his seat, but he was stopped by a hand on his arm. "No," Jacob told him. "As I said, Rachel is more than capable of defending her own honor."

Mason was about to argue when the situation on the floor was rapidly resolved. Rachel's knee connected sharply with Harness' groin. Mason winched involuntarily as the man went down. Jacob's lips curved upward. "_More_ than capable," he murmured to Mason.

Rachel looked down at Harness grimly. "Unless you want me filing a formal complaint, you will be out of this bar, out of this hotel, and out of this town without me ever seeing you again. Clear?"

Harness looked up at her malevolently, but he nodded in agreement. He slowly got to his feet and stumbled from the bar. Rachel continued to the table and sat down.

"Are you all right ma'am?" Mason asked tentatively.

"Why wouldn't I be?" replied Rachel coldly. She relented at Mason's crestfallen look. "Look, kid, I'm all right, really." She grimaced. "It's not the first time and it won't be the last that some jerk like Harness underestimates me, makes assumptions about me." She looked at Jacob severely. "And you are not to call the Director about him."

Jacob held up his hands defensively. "I wouldn't dream of it." But they shared a small smile as they got down to the task at hand.

. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .

They had been working for a while, going over the files that Harness had finally turned over to them, when a cell phone rang. Mason looked up expectantly as Jacob pulled his phone from his jacket pocket.

"Hood… he is?...that's excellent news…I'll be there shortly." He closed his phone and slipped it back into his pocket. "That was the hospital. The officer is awake." He glanced at Rachel. "We need to go over there now to question him."

"Yes, sir." Mason began gathering up the files.

"No need for you to come along." Rachel said. She smiled as she saw Mason's shoulders slump. "We shouldn't be there long. What I'd like you to do is get the contact information on all of the people we need to talk to tomorrow. I'll call you as soon as we get back from the hospital."

Mason watched them leave the bar wishfully. He would have loved to be the one to accompany Dr. Hood to the hospital. He would have loved to be the one to respond to that late night phone call. His hand froze as he reached for a file folder. _'Shit, he had his phone all along.'_

Dr. Hood 's claim to have left it behind was a pretense to get rid of Agent Young. She had known it was a pretense, that Dr. Hood had wanted a chance to lecture him in private. He remembered the look they had exchanged before she left the table. He should have realized she wasn't gone long enough to retrieve something from their rooms. She had only waited out of sight, probably listening, while Dr. Hood had dressed him down. He groaned. _'Damn, she probably thinks I'm as big an asshole as Harness.'_

. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .

Mason was stretched out on his bed staring morosely at the ceiling. He wondered if this posting could get any worse. It seemed that every time he made some progress with Dr. Hood and Agent Young, he did something to piss off one or the other of them. He berated himself for sitting in silence when Harness had poured out that garbage about them, about her. He was startled when his cell phone rang. It turned out to be Agent Young, summoning him to a conference in Dr. Hood's room.

He was surprised to see both Agent Young and Dr. Hood looking so discouraged. It turned out that the cop wasn't the break Dr. Hood had been hoping for. It seemed that he couldn't remember anything from a day or so before the potluck. The doctor has told them that this was typical of coma patients that the man's memory would return, but maybe not for a day or two.

"So," concluded Rachel, "our trip was wasted. How did you do with the contact information?"

Mason was relieved that he was able to give a good report. After they had left, he had taken a seat at the bar, intending to ask the bartender if she had a local phone book. As luck would have it, she was a member of the church. Between her and the phone book, he was able to compile home addresses and phone numbers, and in many cases, work addresses, for everyone on his list.

Jacob rubbed his face tiredly. "Good work, Terrance. We'll get started first thing tomorrow." He shook his head. "I don' know what to ask though. Where to start. I had my hopes pinned on that police officer."

"Uh, maybe you should talk to Father Worrell," Mason said.

Rachel's mouth quirked up in a half smile. "What, you think we could use some spiritual guidance?"

Mason flushed. "No, it's just that cop? He didn't see anyone but Father Worrell the whole time he was at the rectory. They were in the priest's study for a long time."

Jacob cocked his head. "And you know this because..?

"Mrs. Worrell told me, sir. When I was at the rectory earlier today. She mentioned that Father Worrell missed most of the potluck since the cop came to see him right as the party was getting started."

Rachel and Jacob looked at each other approvingly. This kid was as good as Felix in picking up the local gossip. Jacob looked at Terrance thoughtfully. Wondered what else he could contribute with a little encouragement.

"Terrance, what are your thoughts on this case? What do line do you think we should take in tracing the E coli tomorrow?"

"Me, sir?" Mason stuttered. He looked quickly to see how Agent Young was taking this. He was surprised when she nodded at him encouragingly. "Well," he began slowly. "I think we should be asking about ingredients."

"Ingredients?" Jacob looked intrigued. "Why?"

Mason went on with growing confidence. "Maybe the reason the CDC couldn't find any traces of the E coli in the kitchens was that it was in an ingredient bought specifically for that recipe. Something that was totally used up in making the dish for the potluck. Even the packaging was discarded entirely. Something like a can of soup. If it was something like that, it wouldn't leave a trace in the kitchen. Perhaps we can find the source of the bacteria a little further back in the food chain."

Jacob was nodding slowly. "Not something canned, but something else. Yes, that would make sense." He smiled at Mason. "So, that's where we'll start in the morning."

"Do you think…?" Mason trailed off hesitantly.

"Think what?" Jacob asked.

"Well, tomorrow _is_ Christmas Eve. Don't you think it's likely that some of our victims will be out of town, visiting families?"

Rachel shook her head. "Harness' report wasn't completely useless. You're forgetting his profile. All of these people are members of the church choir." She tilted her head. "That means…." She looked at Mason expectantly.

"It means they were planning on singing at the church on Christmas, maybe even Christmas Eve. So they'll be around for us to question."

He continued hesitantly, "uh, ma'am? I know you told Harness that you didn't think it was a hate crime, but…"

Rachel looked surprised. "I thought you agreed with me, said the problems at the church were internal ones. That the leader of the opposition was one of the people who got sick."

"Uh, yeah. But I think we should still investigate that as a possibility. You see, Kate…"

"Kate?" Rachel interrupted, trying hard not to smile.

Mason blushed. "Yeah, she's the bartender here? She was the one who helped me with the lists. She's a member of that church. I was asking her about the zoning problem. She said that the choir was pretty evenly split, but then she made a joke. That most of the people who got sick were opposed to the soup kitchen. Like it was a judgment from God or something."

Rachel grew thoughtful. "So, it _could_ be a hate crime, the person who brought the E coli was targeting certain people."

"That doesn't make sense," Jacob objected. "Obviously, some of the supporters became ill also."

Rachel looked at the scientist with pity. "Hood, anyone whose nuts enough to put E coli in food to get back as someone, isn't going to be thinking that logically. The kid here has a point."

Mason pointed to the lists he had made. "I separated the interviews into four groups. Supporters who got sick and who didn't get sick and opponents who got sick and who didn't."

Rachel yawned. "Good work. After breakfast tomorrow, we'll head over to the rectory. We'll meet you in the lobby at 8:00 sharp."

Mason stood slowly. This was obviously a dismissal. "Yes ma'am. What do you want me to do tomorrow?"

Rachel cocked an eyebrow. "Well for one thing, it's your job to find us a place for breakfast. So I would suggest that you do that before we get to the lobby. Then I want you to accompany us to the rectory." She shrugged. "You're the one with the connection to the priest's wife. We'll need you to make introductions, smooth the way. Then we'll split up the lists, make the interviews go faster."

"Yes ma'am." Mason left the room happily.

Back in his own room he quickly changed into sweats and stretched out on his bed again. This time his thoughts were more cheerful. Apparently both Dr. Hood and Agent Young were willing to give him a second chance. They had both seemed impressed with his contributions to the case just now. He was glad they weren't going to hold that scene with Harness against him

He frowned as he recalled what had happened. He still felt guilty that he had sat there and let that jerk spill out that garbage about Agent Young, Dr. Hood. Yeah, she irritated him by calling him 'kid' all the time, but still. She was smart, a damned good agent. You didn't get the awards she did by sleeping with your assignments. _'I owe her an apology.'_ He determinedly got out of bed, wanting to apologize before he lost his nerve.

. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .

"You should be nicer to him." Jacob leaned against the doorframe of the connecting door to Rachel's room. They had both changed into t-shirts and flannel sleep pants as soon as Mason had left them. But Jacob was reluctant to leave; he hated not sharing a bed with Rachel.

She frowned. "I'm perfectly nice to him. What are you talking about?"

Jacob raised his eyebrows. "Kid?"

"That? A little harmless hazing." Rachel snorted. "You should have heard what the senior agent in my first posting called me."

"I can imagine. And what did you call him in return?"

Rachel's lips curved upward. "Never you mind. Let's just say I wasn't totally surprised to be transferred to the EPD from Counter-Terrorism." She gave Jacob a quick hug and nudged him toward his own room. "You need to scoot. You know you shouldn't be in here."

"What? I'm just here for a good night kiss." Jacob wrapped his arms around her and started nuzzling her neck, kissing the sensitive skin behind her ear.

Rachel arched her neck and murmured appreciatively. "Umm, right, just a kiss huh? Isn't this you trying to convince me to let you into my bed?"

"Umhm, normally. But tonight I'm willing to settle for a goodnight kiss. For once, I think you're right. It would be too risky for us to be together. Terrance already had some suspicions about us before Harness unloaded on him."

"What? Are you sure?"

"Yeah, I could see he was surprised when he found out we lived in the same building. Then there was the look on his face when you told him we needed connecting rooms, not just adjacent ones. Besides, you heard Harness. I wouldn't put it past that bastard to spend the night with his ear glued to your door, hoping to catch us out."

She titled her head back and looked at Jacob seriously. "You really think so?"

Jacob frowned slightly and shook his head, but before he could speak, there was a knock at the door. He raised his eyebrows. "You don't think it could be Harness?"

Rachel headed to the door and checked the peephole. She turned to Jacob. "Mason" she mouthed. Jacob nodded and disappeared into his own room.

Rachel opened the door and regarded the younger agent quizzically. "What?"

Mason swallowed. He had been so intent on apologizing that he hadn't thought things through. He should have realized that Agent Young would have gotten ready for bed shortly after he left. She had been yawning, was obviously tired. He shouldn't have come here in his sweats. He suddenly blanched. _'Christ, my showing up like this, she probably thinks I'm trying to make a move on her.'_

Rachel sighed at the tongue-tied young man in front of her. She found it hard to believe that the sight of her in a t-shirt and flannel sleep pants left him speechless. "Look kid, if you're not going to tell me what you want, would you mind letting me get to bed? It's been a long day."

Mason was jolted out of his trance. "Uh, I was wondering if I could talk to you for a minute?"

Rachel waved him in. "Fine, but make it quick, ok?" She indicated that he should take the desk chair as she sat, cross-legged on her bed.

He took a deep breath. "I wanted to apologize. When Harness started spouting off, about you, about Dr. Hood. I should have said something. I shouldn't have sat there, let him think I agreed with him." He looked Rachel squarely in the eye. "You're a good agent; you shouldn't have to put up with people talking crap about you like that."

"That's ok, it's no big deal."

"No, it's not ok," Mason said stubbornly. "You're smart, a decorated agent. You deserve respect; you shouldn't have to put up with assholes like Harness, just because you're…" He blushed as he realized where this line of thought was taking him. It struck him that it was not the best idea to tell Agent Young that he thought she was hot after coming to her bedroom late at night. _'Hell, it'll never be a good idea for me to tell her that.'_

Rachel suppressed a smile. "Just because I look like a ditzy blonde?"

Mason nodded weakly, thankful that she couldn't read his mind. "Uh, yeah."

"Thank you Terrance." Rachel smiled at him faintly. "I appreciate your support." She got to her feet, "but like I said, it's been a long day and we have to get moving pretty early tomorrow." She gently eased him from her room as he stammered a good night. She leaned back against the door and laughed softly.

"I was worried, for second, it sounded like he was going to make a pass at you himself."

Rachel looked over to where Jacob was once again lounging against the doorframe. His face was alight with amusement. She smiled in response.

"I think he was afraid of the same thing."

Jacob came over to Rachel and pulled her back into his arms. He lightly kissed her eyes, her cheeks. "How about one more goodnight kiss?"

He pulled her tightly against him and kissed her passionately.

They stood pressed together for several minutes. Rachel finally pulled out of Jacob's arms, breathlessly. "That was _not_ a goodnight kiss."

"No? It was a kiss and I'm here to say goodnight…" Jacob tried to pull Rachel back against him.

She lightly pushed him toward his own room. "You said it yourself, it's not a good idea for us to be together tonight. So stop tempting me. Scoot."

"Fine, I'll say goodnight Agent Young." He leaned down to press a final kiss on her nose. "Although I have to say that Terrance was right, you're very….ditzy." He disappeared into his own room, Rachel's laughter following him.

. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .

The next morning Mason was feeling remarkably chipper. Sure, it was Christmas Eve and it looked like he would spend not just today, but tomorrow working. Sure it was the first time he wouldn't be spending the holidays with his family. But he finally felt like he belonged, like he was a real FBI agent. He smiled as he remembered that Agent Young had not only accepted his apology, but called him Terrance.

His good mood dimmed slightly when the dinging of the elevator revealed not the two people he was expecting, but Harness. The man looked a mess, his clothes were rumpled, as if he slept in them and he looked hung-over.

He didn't intend to speak to the man, but he stiffened as Harness brushed past him. "Beg pardon? _What _did you say?"

The man turned to Mason with a smirk. "I said it looked like the bitch was letting you have sloppy seconds."

"What the hell is that supposed to mean?"

"I saw you leaving her room last night." Harness ran his eyes over Mason's neat suit and crisp white shirt. "You weren't exactly dressed for business."

Mason clenched his teeth. There was no way he was going to let this jerk dis Agent Young a second time. Thinking quickly he widened his eyes and looked over Harness' shoulder. "Why Agent Young, I wasn't expecting…" He snickered as the man whirled around with a look of panic.

"Relax, asshole," Mason advised. "She's not due down here for a few more minutes. You've got time to clear out." His voice took on a frosty tone. "And while you're driving back, you might want to consider that the reason _she's_ working out of the Director's office while _you're_ stuck in Philly has nothing to do with the way she looks. _She's_ forgotten more about being an agent than you'll ever know."

Mason smiled grimly as Harness left the hotel. He was so caught up in his encounter with the man that he jumped at the voice behind him.

"Very well done, Terrance." He turned to see Dr. Hood smiling at him.

"Dr. Hood." Mason stuttered. "How much of that did you hear?" He looked around uneasily. "Where's Agent Young?"

Jacob tilted his head, an expression of distaste crossing his face. "All of it. Thankfully Rachel forgot her cell phone and I came down ahead of her." He smiled at the look of suspicion on Mason's face. "She really did forget her phone."

He became serious as he addressed the younger man. "What you did was perfect. You let him know that you respected Rachel without demeaning her or yourself by responding to his sexist garbage. She'd be pleased."

"What will please me?" Rachel asked as she exited the elevator.

"Your Christmas present." Jacob replied promptly. "I just told Terrance what I'm giving you. I'm sure you'll be pleased." He smiled at her teasingly. "I've surpassed myself this year."

Rachel lifted an eyebrow. "Considering that you gave me a blender last year, that wouldn't be hard."

Mason started to snicker. Jacob looked at them both with an expression of mock offense. "You said you loved the blender." He turned to Mason. "I've been told that women _adore_ getting small appliances as presents."

Mason considered that statement gravely. "I believe I've heard the same thing sir."

Jacob smiled in relief and glanced at Mason as Rachel dissolved in laughter. Mason returned the smile, happy to be complicit in diverting Agent Young's attention from what had happened in the lobby.

. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .

Over breakfast Jacob expressed the hope that the priest would provide them with the lead he had expected to receive from the police officer. He was non-plused when Mason hesitantly said that maybe he shouldn't expect too much.

"Why not Terrance?" Jacob looked at him pointedly. "After all, it was your idea to talk to the priest in the first place."

He looked from Dr. Hood to Agent Young, unsure how to phrase what he had to say. "It's just that, Mrs. Worrell, his wife? When I asked to speak to Father Worrell yesterday, she sort of blew me off, said it would be a waste of time."

Jacob's forehead creased in confusion. "Why would she say that?"

"Well, she said that he probably didn't notice much, that's he not, well, that he's not practical."

Mason couldn't understand why Dr. Hood gave Agent Young a disgusted look for choking on her juice.

"I'm sure," Jacob said stiffly, "that he notices more than she gives him credit for."

"That's what I thought. She said that when Father Worrell gets involved in his work he sort of loses track of everything around him. I was hoping that since the cop was an interruption, that maybe he paid more attention." Mason shrugged. "But I might be off base."

"Maybe," agreed Rachel. "But right now he's the best lead we have, so we might as well check it out."

Rachel and Mason divided up the lists of potluck attendees to be interrogated. Rachel was impressed with the preliminary list of questions Mason had developed the night before. He had obviously paid attention to what he had learned from the bartender and the priest's wife about the church's political situation.

"Good work Terrance," she said approvingly. "We'll hit the rectory first, then start on these interviews. With a little luck, something may break today."


	3. Chapter 3

Mrs. Worrell opened the door with a groan. "Not again. Don't you understand? We're just swamped today."

Jacob smiled at the woman warmly. "I do understand Mrs. Worrell, but we need to find answers to what happened to your parishioners, to make sure that others aren't affected. I need to speak to your husband about when the police officer was with him."

Rachel rolled her eyes as the woman visibly softened at Hood's smile. But she was happy that the woman relented. Mrs. Worrell went to summon her husband from his study.

"He'll be right with you. Can I get you some coffee?" Soon they were all in the kitchen enjoying coffee that was much better than what the diner had provided.

She was skeptical when Jacob explained what he hoped to learn from her husband. "I thought the people from the CDC said it wasn't the food."

"I feel they may have been jumping to conclusions."

Jacob produced the sign-up sheet and explained how helpful it had already been in their investigations. Mrs. Worrell was quick to appreciate the point about the two dishes no one claimed to have eaten.

"Let me see that," she said. She nodded, "you're half right. I can tell you that right now. No one would have eaten the grape nuts pudding." She rolled her eyes. "John brings that to every potluck and no one ever eats it."

She paused. "But the sautéed Brussels sprouts? No, I can tell you that people ate them. There weren't any left."

Rachel scrunched up her nose. "You're sure? The Brussels sprouts?"

"Not everyone shares your aversion to vegetables Rachel," Jacob put in.

"Especially when they're cooked with as much butter as Sue uses," grinned Mrs. Worrell. "Trust me, it's a popular dish, lots of people ate them." She paused, remembering. "I ate them."

"They can't be the source of the E coli then, can they?" Mason asked Hood. "Since Mrs. Worrell didn't get sick."

"Not necessarily," Jacob said regretfully. "You have to understand. The E coli bacteria wouldn't be spread evenly though the dish. It could have been in only one part." He shrugged. "Or it could have been present, but not in a large quantity. It could have been that ones who became ill ate more than the others."

"I still can't believe that the E coli came from any of the kitchens of our choir members." Mrs. Worrell shook her head. "I know all of these people; I've been in their homes, their kitchens."

Jacob's lips twitched, he reached out to touch the woman on the arm. "An E coli outbreak doesn't mean that the home, the kitchen is dirty. The bacteria were present in the food before it ever got to anyone's kitchen."

"Thank you for that," Mrs. Worrell said. She snorted. "That other agent, before the CDC people said it wasn't the food; he made us all feel like we were a bunch of potential poisoners."

"You mean Harness?" Rachel asked.

"Ummhmm," Mrs. Worrell continued indignantly. "He practically said that this outbreak was our fault." She snorted again. "Now I could see his point if Sally Hill had cooked any of the food for the potluck but…."

"Now Barbara, you're being unchristian." A tall blonde man wearing a dog-collar came into the kitchen. "I'm Father Worrell." He turned his attention back to his wife. "You shouldn't say things like that about Mrs. Hill. You know she means well."

"She may mean well," retorted his wife. "But you know you can't trust anything that comes out of her kitchen."

She noticed the mystified looks on the faces of her listeners. "She has cats. And she lets them have free reign in her house."

"You mean," Rachel began, horrified.

"Yes, she lets them up on her kitchen counters." The woman shuddered. "She brags about it, there's no way anyone in the parish would eat anything she cooked."

"Which is why she made it clear that her contribution to the potluck was purchased," Father Worrell said firmly.

Jacob looked confused, flipped through his files quickly. "But Mrs. Worrell, you said she didn't cook, contribute anything. I don't see Mrs. Hill listed on the sign-up sheet. And she's not on the list of the households investigated by the CDC."

Mrs. Worrell reddened. "She's not on the sign-up sheet. When I put out the original email, so people could see what others were bringing, her response wasn't, well, responsive. She said she'd either bring something savory or something sweet.

So I didn't bother including her on the sheet. Since what she brought was store bought, there was no reason to tell the CDC about her, have them check her kitchen." She sniffed. "Even though it's probably teaming with bacteria."

Jacob leaned forward eagerly. "So, what did she bring? What was her contribution?"

Mrs. Worrell looked uneasy. "Uh, she didn't exactly have one."

Father Worrell laughed. "That's right. You snaffled it."

"I didn't 'snaffle' it." his wife snapped. "She offered it to me." She paused to collect her thoughts. "The day of the potluck was a madhouse around here. We weren't only hosting the choir potluck that night, but I was having a tea for the Christian Mothers. Plus the youth group was decorating cookies for the nursery. Sally came over early to drop off her contribution to the potluck, cheese and crackers. It was supposed to snow that night and she said if it did, she wouldn't be coming.

Well, I was in the middle of making my dish, a macaroni cheese casserole and I was short of cheese. I was complaining about not having time to go to the store, so Sally told me to just use her cheese. I figured since it wasn't something she made, it would be safe."

Jacob and Rachel exchanged glances. "Did you use all of her cheese?"

Mrs. Worrell nodded. "Yes, she bought it already cut up in little cubes. I just threw it all in the pot."

"What about the bag the cheese was in?" Rachel asked.

Mrs. Worrell blinked in surprise. "Funny you should ask about that. Sally took it back; she claims she recycles the bags."

"There's your ingredient Terrance," Jacob said softly. "Something brought into the kitchen specifically for this recipe, used in total, and the packaging removed. Just as you predicted."

"I knew it!" Mrs. Worrell was triumphant. "I knew that Sally Hill was the source of the bacteria!"

"Maybe," said Jacob cautiously. He was flipping through his files again. "Not all of the victims remembered eating your macaroni and cheese. But then again, we already postulated that they may not have listed everything they ate."

Father Worrell tutted, "Really Barbara, you're only bad-mouthing her because you're still ticked off about the fudge."

"Maybe," his wife admitted ruefully. She explained to the others. "James is diabetic, he doesn't make a big deal about it, but people know, so they don't offer him sweets. Well, Sally not only had the cheese and crackers for the potluck, she had a box of fancy fudge for James. She insisted he take it."

"She means well," Father Worrell put in. "She'd have been embarrassed if I reminded her that I couldn't eat the fudge, so I just accepted her present."

Jacob nodded. "Yes, that would be the best way to handle it."

Rachel and Mrs. Worrell looked at each other and rolled their eyes. Their thoughts were identical. _'God does that sound familiar.'_

"I know I can't eat it." he continued. "But I thought it would be nice to have something in my study, to offer visitors."

Jacob stiffened. "The police officer, the one who called on you that night? Did you offer him any of the fudge?"

"You mean Bryan? Why yes, he had two or three pieces."

Jacob sat up straighter. "Do you still have the fudge? Is there any left?"

"Well, there is a little left. I didn't eat it." he added defensively looking at his wife. "It's just there was so much in that box, I put it out on the dessert table at the potluck." He thought carefully. "Most of it was still left; I put it on the top shelf of the pantry closet." He walked over to retrieve it. "Do you need it?"

The threesome exchanged looks of triumph. This might be the break they were looking for. This Mrs. Hill, who wasn't on anyone's list, might be the lynchpin of the whole outbreak.

"Thank you." Jacob was grateful. "Yes, this fudge may be quite helpful to us."

As they left the house Rachel snapped out orders to Mason. She and Hood would head back to the hospital to run tests on the fudge. Mason would go and question the Hill woman, see where she had purchased the cheese and the fudge. He would then report to them at the hospital.

"Oh, and Terrance," Rachel called out as he was about to duck into his car. He turned to her inquiringly. Rachel smiled. "If she offers you anything to eat or drink, don't be polite."

"No, ma'am. I won't be." he returned her grin.

. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .

While Jacob ran tests on the fudge, Rachel patiently cross-checked which victim ate what. Slowly a pattern appeared. While not all of the victims had eaten the same things, most of them had either the fudge or the macaroni cheese casserole. Rachel was puzzled by the three who swore they had eaten neither.

Jacob for his part tested several pieces and confirmed that they were indeed infected with E coli. He then tested the strain of E coli in the fudge with the E coli that had been recovered from the victims. It had an identical DNA. He was confident that they had identified the source of this outbreak. The next question, the more important question was how the E coli got in the fudge and most likely the cheese.

Mason was able to answer that question for them, at least potentially. He showed up at the hospital after interviewing Mrs. Hill with a big smile and a small bottle of milk.

He presented the bottle of milk to Jacob with a flourish. "This is for you."

Jacob's lips twitched in amusement. "Thank you Terrance, but I'm not particularly thirsty right now."

Mason laughed. "It's not to drink. I got it from Mrs. Hill. She got the milk from the same dairy she got the cheese and the fudge."

"Why is that significant?" Rachel asked.

"'Cause Mrs. Hill told me that she took some of this milk to the potluck for the coffee service. Seems they usually only have powdered creamers and she thought this would be better for everyone. I double-checked with Mrs. Worrell and she confirmed that there was milk there, but she didn't know who brought it."

Rachel and Mason sat together in the hospital lab companionably as Jacob tested the milk.

Rachel nudged Mason on the arm. "So Terrance, how bad was it really?"

Mason shuddered at the memory. "Real bad. I mean there were cats everywhere. I tried counting 'em, but I lost track after 6. I gotta say, I'm on Mrs. Worrell's side on this one. I sure as hell wouldn't eat anything cooked in that house."

Jacob looked up grimly. "That may well be the case, but that foolish woman managed to sicken her friends and neighbors without the help of her feline companions."

Rachel blinked. She wasn't used to an angry Hood. Usually he reserved his anger for those who endangered others for their own gain. But then again, she reminded herself, he was also impatient with stupidity. She wondered what he had discovered in the milk.

"What is it Hood, what did you find?"

"This milk is laced with E coli. And I've compared it. It's the same E coli that I found in the fudge, and in the systems of the victims."

Rachel had been thinking about what Hood had said. "Wait a second," she protested. "That doesn't make sense. The guy from the CDC said that E coli comes from beef and vegetables. How could the milk have E coli? I though pasteurization was supposed to kill all of that kind of stuff."

"Exactly," said Jacob in disgust. "But this stuff is raw milk, the fudge and cheese were most likely made with raw milk also."

Rachel quietly thought over Hood's words. She pulled out her phone and went to a corner of the lab to make some phone calls.

"But how can that be?" Mason objected. "Wouldn't the bacteria have been killed when the milk was made into cheese or fudge?"

"No, neither the cheese nor candy making process would heat the milk to a high enough temperature to kill the E coli." Jacob shook his head, "The real question is did that woman realize what she was buying, and if so, why."

"Yeah, she knows its raw milk." Mason explained. "When I was at her house, she offered me a cup of coffee, bragged about how she only ate, drank, unprocessed stuff. Said she only used raw milk and raw sugar in her coffee. That she ate food the way God intended it to be eaten."

"What an idiot," Jacob exploded. "What a lot of arrant nonsense. Doesn't she think her god gave us developments like pasteurization to keep us from killing ourselves? Doesn't she realize how dangerous it is to drink raw milk? It's not even legal in most states to sell the stuff for human consumption. Even if she feels that way she had no right to risk other's health and safety."

At that moment Rachel approached the two men with a look of satisfaction on her face. "Well, that nailed it. Our final three victims. Didn't eat the mac cheese, didn't eat the fudge, but they did have coffee with cream."

Mason looked eagerly from Dr. Hood to Agent Young. "What now? Do we head out to that dairy?"

Jacob shook himself, brought himself back to the present tearing his mind away from the foolishness that had caused so much suffering for so many. "No, that's not our job." He smiled at the look of disappointment on the young man's face.

"We don't have the resources." He elaborated. "We'll need to alert the CDC and the Pennsylvania Department of Agriculture. Checking out the dairy is a job for a team of scientists, not one man. They'll also need to go over the dairy's sales records, track their shipments, see if there are any other outbreaks associated with their products."

"So we just go home?" Mason couldn't keep the frustration from his voice.

"I wish," Rachel replied. "Hood may be 99% sure of his conclusions..."

"Actually, I'm 100% sure," Jacob interjected. Rachel continued as if he hadn't spoken.

"But we have to wait for official confirmation from the CDC; then we can wrap things up here."

"So what do we do?"

Jacob and Rachel looked at each other and shrugged. "We wait."

The rest of the day dragged on interminably. When they returned to the hotel, Dr. Hood and Agent Young automatically headed to Hood's room. When Mason hesitated, Agent Young made it clear to him that this was standard procedure. Hood's room was always used as the communal workspace. He and Rachel began working on the report for this case. Agent Young was determined to start the new year with no paperwork hanging over her head. Dr. Hood spent the afternoon checking his email, surfing the web, and playing computer games. He also kept in touch with both the hospital and the CDC, checking on the status of the remaining victims and the investigation of the dairy.

Mason was gratified when, after dinner, Dr. Hood and Agent Young made it clear that his company was still welcome. He had thought, since the report was mostly finished, that he would be spending a boring evening in his hotel room alone. Instead he spent an entertaining evening with Dr. Hood and Agent Young. The three of them sprawled out on the beds in Dr. Hood's room, eating microwave popcorn and flipping between "It's a Wonderful Life" and "A Christmas Story" on television. This prompted Dr. Hood and Agent Young to begin an argument as to the worst Christmas movie ever. Agent Young had snickered at the blank look on Dr. Hood's face when he offered up "Fred Claus." She explained that Dr. Hood wasn't familiar with any movie made in the last twenty years.

The local news was beginning when Mason decided to go to his own room. "What's up for tomorrow ma'am?"

Rachel grimaced. "More waiting. With any luck the CDC will be done with their investigation into the dairy pretty quick. Why don't we all plan on meeting in the lobby around 9:00 for breakfast?"

Mason nodded in agreement and said his goodnights. Jacob waited until the door closed firmly behind him before pulling Rachel into his arms. He began kissing her, running his hands over her breasts, down to her hips, pulling her into him.

Rachel pulled away from him. "Jacob, behave yourself. You said it yourself, we need to be careful here."

"Not tonight," Jacob argued. "That bastard Harness is long gone and Terrance won't be making anymore late night visits to your room." He snickered. "He was too embarrassed at what Harness implied when he saw him leaving it last night."

"What does that mean?"

Jacob sighed. He had forgotten that Rachel hadn't heard the exchange between the two men that morning. "Harness _was _hanging around our rooms last night. He saw Terrance leaving your room, that you were both in your night clothes. When Terrance ran into him this morning he implied that we were, ah, sharing your favors."

Rachel burst out laughing. "Sharing my favors? I'm sure Harness didn't express it like that."

Jacob smiled and pulled Rachel closer. "No, he was a bit more vulgar. But it embarrassed Terrance. That's why we don't have to worry about him tonight."

Rachel slipped out of his arms and off the bed. "No, we shouldn't take chances. It won't kill you to sleep alone one more night."

Jacob looked up at her disgruntled. "Come on Rachel, it's almost Christmas. How about showing a little good will toward man? 

Rachel paused with her hand on the doorjamb. "You're right, it is almost Christmas and if you don't start behaving yourself, you could still end up on Santa's naughty list."

Jacob flopped back on the bed laughing. He slowly smiled to himself; he knew how to slip past Rachel's defenses. He just needed to wait awhile.

. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .

"Merry Christmas Rachel," Jacob murmured as he slipped into bed beside her.

Rachel smiled sleepily as she was pulled against a warm, naked body and Jacob nuzzled her neck. "Umm, Jacob, what are you doing? I thought we agreed…." Despite her protests, she snuggled back into his warmth.

"_We_ didn't agree to anything. I told you, it's perfectly safe for me to be in your bed tonight."

Rachel murmured appreciatively as Jacob's hands slid under her t-shirt and he began caressing her, kissing her neck.

She rolled over to face him, wrapped her arms around his neck. "So, I'm perfectly safe with you tonight?" She giggled as she drew her knee up along his thigh. "How very disappointing."

Jacob smiled, burying his face in her neck. "You are a wanton woman Rachel Hood." He pulled her t-shirt over her head and began kissing and biting the soft skin of her neck and shoulder. His teeth and tongue traced the line of her collarbone to the hollow at the base of her throat. He kissed his way down her chest to her breasts.

Lightly at first, then with increasing pressure, he licked her nipples. As Rachel began to squirm, he took a nipple into his mouth and sucked on it. He alternated sucking and licking her nipples and breasts until Rachel was moaning with pleasure.

"Yes, Jacob, that feels so good."

His mouth moved lower, tracing the line of muscle that ran down the center her abdomen. He murmured his pleasure at the feel of her soft skin, her taut muscles.

Rachel was writhing beside him, her hips arching off the bed, her hands pulling at his shoulders, trying to pull him on top on her, trying to wrap her legs around his hips.

"Come in me baby, I really need to feel you in me."

"Not yet, sweetheart. I need to touch you, to taste you first."

He pulled her sleep pants down over her hips, and Rachel kicked them off. Jacob parted her thighs, moving between them. He pulled her legs up until her knees bent. He kissed her knee and then ran kisses down to her thigh.

Jacob began to lick and suck her clit. His hands pinned her hips to the bed as she arched her back, twisting and moaning. Rachel gave herself up to the delicious sensations Jacob was creating.

Rachel could feel her climax building, could feel the tension building inside of her; could feel the muscles in her lower body contracting.

"Oh baby, I'm so close, please, come in me, I want to come with you inside me."

"Not yet, sweetheart."

Jacob hand took the place of his mouth between her thighs. He lay beside her, his other hand tangling in her hair, holding her mouth to his in a deep kiss.

Sliding one finger inside of her, his thumb massaged her clit quickly and firmly. Their tongues twisted around each other. He could feel her climax overtaking her; feel her muscles contract around his finger. As her climax swept over her Rachel buried her face in his neck, gasping out Jacob's name. Her legs tightened around his hand and she pressed her body against his.

"God, Rachel, I love how you respond to me." Jacob whispered in her ear.

"I love what you do to me." Rachel reached between their bodies, her hand closing firmly over Jacob's cock. "I love how you feel." She stoked his cock, running her hand up and down his hard length; cupping his balls lightly. "I love how your cock feels inside me. Come in me baby."

Jacob rolled on top of her and parted her thighs with his knee. With one quick thrust, he was inside her.

"Oh, yes baby." Rachel moaned. "Oh god Jacob, you're so hard. You feel so, so good."

His face buried in her hair, he whispered, "you feel good, so fucking tight, so fucking wet."

Slowly at first, he thrust into her. As their breathing quickened, his thrusts became harder, faster. Rachel wrapped her legs around his waist, angled her hips, trying to bring him deeper inside her. He could feel her when she came, the muscles in her thighs tightening around his hips, the muscles in her vagina tightening around his cock, her voice, breathless, gasping out his name. Arching his back, he tightened his arms around her, as he thrust into her, his cock pulsing deep inside of her.

As they lay tangled together, Jacob couldn't stop touching Rachel, gently stroking her hair, her arm. He nuzzled the top of her head, holding her close, enjoying the feel of her pressed up against him. Rachel tipped her head up to press a kiss on Jacob's cheek. "Merry Christmas baby."

"Hmm," Jacob responded lazily. "If I could move, I'd give you your present."

"My present? I thought we were doing presents in Deale? At least that's where your present is, under the tree."

"I have a present for you at the house, but I've kept this one with me, in case we got called out."

"What is it?" Rachel was curious, wondering what Jacob had gotten her for their first Christmas together.

He smiled into her hair. "You'll have to open it. It's on the nightstand; I put it there before I got into bed."

Rachel leaned over Jacob and grabbed her gift. Sitting up, she made short work of the wrapping paper. Opening the small box she gave a sigh of pleasure. "Jacob, they're beautiful." The box contained earrings, fine gold wires twisted to form a double knot.

Jacob sat up and pulled Rachel into his side. "Do you really like them? They're called…."

"Lover's knots." Rachel finished for him. "I love them, they're beautiful. Thank you." She threw her arms around him. "I feel bad; I don't have anything for you."

Jacob slid them back down onto the bed. "I think you do, sweetheart."

. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .

It was late Christmas night and Mason leaned back with a sigh of pleasure, taking a sip of the excellent single malt scotch Dr. Hood had handed him. He, Agent Young, and Dr. Hood were sitting in front of the fire in the family room of Alex Hood's home. He and Dr. Hood were on the sofa with their scotches, while Agent Young was curled up in a big chair with a snifter of cognac.

He lazily watched the flames, thinking that this Christmas had been much pleasanter than he had expected. The day had been full of surprises. The first one had been over breakfast. With the prospect of an empty day in front of them, breakfast had been a leisurely affair.

They were just finishing up when Dr. Hood had suggested that they go to church. He couldn't understand the skeptical look on Agent Young's face. Dr. Hood for his part seemed amused.

"What, afraid the roof will fall in?"

Agent Young had laughed at that, turning to him to explain. "The last time we were in a church it was so he could browbeat a suspect." She had looked at Dr. Hood, "What's up? What's going on in that head of yours?"

Dr. Hood had shrugged. "You know the CDC. They'll insist that every t be crossed and every i be dotted before they let those people know what happened to them." He snorted, "If they even bother. They deserve answers now."

So they had attended mass at Father Worrell's church. He had been startled, considering what Agent Young had said, when Dr. Hood participated in the service. The doctor had shared a hymnal with Agent Young and had sung all the carols in a clear tenor voice.

After the service was over, they approached Father and Mrs. Worrell, explained how the E coli had been spread to the choir members. The priest and is wife were relieved to discover that the church wasn't the target of a malicious attack as Harness and the CDC had hinted. They were about to make their farewells, when the group was approached by an elderly woman.

He nudged Agent Young. "That's Mrs. Hill. You know, the cat lady?" He titled his head to the door. "Uh, maybe we should get Dr. Hood out of here." He remembered how angry Hood had been the day before when he discovered that the woman had deliberately exposed the choir members to the raw milk products.

Instead, Dr. Hood smiled gently at the woman and explained to her earnestly why she shouldn't drink raw milk. Agent Young rolled her eyes at the way the woman fluttered around Hood. She had to turn a laugh into a cough when Hood added that it could be dangerous to her "kitties" if they were to drink the untreated milk.

"Honestly, Hood, her kitties?"

"I figured that someone with that many cats would most likely care more about their well-being than her own."

They hadn't been back at the hotel long when Dr. Hood's cell phone rang. It had been the CDC and they were calling to confirm that the dairy was definitely the source of the E coli bacteria. A quick check of the dairy's sales records had led the CDC to another outbreak in Western Pennsylvania.

Things happened quickly after that. Agent Young had grabbed his bag and thrown it into the back of the SUV along with hers and Dr. Hoods. She told him to go drop off his car, they would pick him up at the rental agency. As he climbed into the backseat of the SUV, he could see that Agent Young was punching in a destination in the GPS. He was puzzled, why would she need directions to get back to DC? He was startled when he heard the reason why.

"See, I told you. If we cut down through Delaware, we can be in Deale in a little less than four hours."

He had objected, reminding Agent Young that they had to drop him off in DC. She had turned to him with her eyebrows raised.

"Why? You already said that no one was expecting you for Christmas dinner."

Dr. Hood had chimed in. It seemed he had already called his sister, told her that he was bringing a guest. Besides he had added, how could he and Rachel enjoy their dinner if they thought he was going to be alone in an empty apartment?

Despite his initial misgivings, he had enjoyed meeting the doctor's family. His sister insisted that he call her Alex. She had welcomed him as warmly as if he was a real guest. His nephew, Owen, was a great kid, reminded him of one of his cousins. It had really felt like Christmas, especially when it become obvious that Agent Young wouldn't disapprove of his playing with Owen and his new toys.

After dinner Owen had insisted they open the presents that remained under the tree. Alex had explained that she hadn't let Owen open his gifts from his uncle and Agent Young. He was a little surprised that Agent Young has given the kid a present, but thinking about it, it made sense. After all, she had been assigned to this detail for almost three years. Alex and Owen treated her as if she were one of the family.

That became obvious when he noticed that not all of the remaining presents were for Owen. There were presents from them for Agent Young as well as Dr. Hood. There was also one for Dr. Hood from Agent Young. He had wondered what she would give him. It turned out to be a book on the making of the movie Casablanca. He seemed to be pleased with it.

There were also two presents for him under the tree. One was a musical snow globe that played "O Little Town of Bethlehem" and the other was a large box of fudge. Dr. Hood had explained that the snow globe came from the hotel gift shop and they had picked up the fudge during one of their stops. Agent Young had laughed and said they wanted him to have a memento of the case they had worked together.

Alex was picking up the wrapping paper when Own began to object. He wanted to know why his uncle didn't have a present for Agent Young. Dr. Hood had told the boy that he had already given Rachel her present. Agent Young had agreed, shown the boy the earrings she was wearing. He was a little surprised at such a personal gift, but he shrugged to himself; the two of them had been together for awhile.

Alex and Owen had gone to bed early. Alex apologized for being a bad hostess, but explained that Owen had woken her not long after dawn. The three of them had then settled down in front of the fire. Prompted by him, Dr. Hood and Agent Young reminisced about some of their more interesting cases. It became clear to him, listening to their stories, that the bond they shared was forged under fire, cemented by their absolute trust in each other.

The fire was beginning to die down as Agent Young finished up an account of a case dealing with stolen stem cells. It was then that Dr. Hood suggested a nightcap. Swirling the scotch around in his glass, he decided to risk a question. Remembering their teasing the day before, he looked over at Agent Young.

"Did Dr. Hood really give you a blender last year?"

Rachel smiled into her cognac. Remembering the presents they had given each other last year. Presents that had been purchased before they had admitted their love for each other. Presents of the type exchanged between co-workers. But they had also had a sub-text, one which they had hoped the other would recognize.

"Not really. He gave me a book." What she didn't tell Mason was that the book had been the latest thriller by her favorite author. Not only was it autographed, it was personally inscribed.

"She gave me a scarf." Jacob offered. He didn't add that the scarf was the finest cashmere; the color a light golden brown liberally flecked with green. Almost the exact color of his eyes.

"No small appliances at all?" He smiled as they laughed and shook their heads. He finished off his scotch. "Well, I think I'll head up to bed. What time will we be leaving tomorrow?"

Rachel nodded a goodnight. "We'll leave around 8:30. We shouldn't have too much traffic tomorrow."

Mason was halfway to his room when he suddenly remembered the snow globe. He had left it in the family room. Afraid he might forget it in the morning, he decided to go back to retrieve it. He quickly ran back down the stairs and made his way to the family room. He stopped in shock on the threshold.

Agent Young wasn't curled up in her chair before the fire. Instead, she was curled up on the sofa, in Dr. Hood's lap, with her head on his shoulder. He was holding her snugly against him, with his cheek resting against the top of her head.

His shock was quickly replaced by anger. _'That god-damned hypocrite. Going on about her honor, the need to show her respect. The bastard's been screwing her all along. They must think I'm an idiot.'_ He opened his mouth, to confront them, when Dr. Hood's words froze him in place.

"So, how was our first married Christmas?"

'_Shit, they're married?'_

"It was wonderful."

"Really? Even though we had to work and we had Terrance along with us?"

"Really. We were together and we got to spend time with our family. It was perfect. And it's not as if it mattered that Terrance was with us. We didn't do anything different."

"I know, but it seems like it was a risk, bringing him here."

"Why? After all, it's not like Owen calls me 'Aunt Rachel'. Besides, would you have enjoyed yourself knowing we had left Terrance all on his own on _Christmas_?"

"No, you're right; it would have been pretty shabby of us to leave him alone because we were afraid he'd guess the truth about us. He's a good kid."

"Umm, going to be a good agent too, he's got good instincts. Remind me to call my friend Donna in White Collar, let her know that he's got potential."

Mason felt a little ashamed. He had been so quick to think badly of them while they seemed to think highly of him. He silently withdrew and went up to his room.

He reflected on what he had overheard. _'I can see why he's so touchy about what people think about her, she's his wife.'_ He also considered the implications of what Dr. Hood has said. About them being worried he would realize the truth. He might be new to the Bureau, but he knew enough to know that Agent Young would be in big trouble if anyone were to find out about her and Dr. Hood. He wondered what he should do with his newfound knowledge.

. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .

Mason was awakened by a thump on his bed. He blearily opened his eyes to find Owen perched at his feet.

"Hi, Rachel said that if you're not downstairs in half an hour she and Uncle Jacob are gonna leave you here." He giggled, "I think you should stay, we could have lots of fun playing my new video games."

He looked at the young boy thoughtfully. "Do you think your Aunt Rachel would really leave me here?"

Owen tilted his head thoughtfully. "I think she might. Uncle Jacob says she's pretty bossy."

Mason decided on a further test. The kid hadn't blinked when he referred to Agent Young as his aunt. "Yeah, but she only bosses him around 'cause they're married."

Own shook his head. "Nah, she's always bossed him around. 'Sides, she bosses Felix around too." He grinned. "If you want to any breakfast, you better hurry up."

For some reason, Mason found it reassuring that the pair hadn't lied to the boy about their relationship. That they weren't being completely dishonest.

Mason was showered, dressed, and downstairs with his bag packed within the designated time. Agent Young teased him about sleeping in, Dr. Hood about leaving his snow globe behind. They were in high spirits and they didn't seem to realize how quiet he was on the drive to the city. Wondering what, if anything, he should do with the information he had unwittingly acquired. Because no matter how you looked at it, Agent Young was in serious violation of FBI rules and he might be too if he ignored the situation.

After he and Agent Young put the finishing touches on their report, Mason asked if it would be ok if he took a break, went to the cafeteria for a cup of coffee.

"Still having trouble waking up?" Agent Young said with a smile. "Of course you can, you don't need my permission for that. Just don't leave the building and make sure you have your cell phone, in case something comes up."

Dr. Hood looked up from where he was taking inventory of his lab supplies. "Rachel's right, you're not on probation here Terrance; you're a member of our team."

Mason smiled his thanks as he made his way from the lab. _'Damn, this would be a lot easier if they both weren't so nice.'_ He made a face. _'And if they both weren't so damned good at what they do.'_

He pulled up short when he entered the cafeteria. He hadn't realized some of his classmates had been posted to divisions in the Hoover Building. But two of them, Trevor Wilson and George Richards were sharing a table. He hesitated, not wanting to join them. He had wanted some time alone to try to decide what to do about Agent Young and Dr. Hood. Wilson spied him and waved him over. He grabbed a cup of coffee and joined them.

"Hi, guys. I didn't realize you two got posted here. What divisions did you end up in?"

Richards looked up smugly. "I got my first choice; I got posted to Violent Crimes and Major Thefts."

Wilson grinned. "I got lucky. They had a sudden opening in Organized Crime, so I got pulled from my original posting. How about you? Did you get White Collar like you wanted?"

"Uh, yeah. But they weren't ready for me, so I've been posted to the Special Science Advisor's detail temporarily."

Wilson's eyes widened. "Oh man, talk about getting lucky. Do you think you'll get to go out on a case with him?" Richards lost him smug look as his mouth dropped open in surprise.

Mason smiled faintly; glad to have scored one over these two. "We just got back. Idiots at the CDC couldn't figure out an E coli outbreak in Pennsylvania, but we cleared things up in a couple of days."

At this point Agent Young came into the cafeteria followed by Dr. Hood. "Hey Terrance, I decided to go to the range to shoot a few rounds. Why don't you come down when you're finished?" She grinned at him. "Show me what you got."

Dr. Hood rolled his eyes. "I hope you can best her Terrance. Otherwise she'll be insufferable for the rest of the day."

She and Dr. Hood left the cafeteria bickering amiably. The three younger agents watched them go silently.

"Man, talk about getting lucky." Wilson looked distinctly envious. "She even gives you the time of day?"

"What I'd like to know," Richards looked around the cafeteria and lowered his voice. "Do you think there's any truth to the rumors? That she's sleeping with him?"

Mason sat for a moment, thinking about the events of the past few days, about the decision he had to make about his knowledge of Dr. Hood and Agent Young's relationship. Suddenly, everything seemed very clear to him.

He looked at his former classmates with amusement. "Grow up. Just because they work well together doesn't mean that anything wrong is going on." He smiled broadly, "but if you really want to know, ask her. But let me know first, I wanna be around when she rips you a new one."

He drained his cup of coffee and stood up. "Now, if you'll excuse me, I've got a shooting match to win."

Walking out of the cafeteria, Mason felt a glow of satisfaction. He thought Dr. Hood would have approved of how he handled that.


End file.
